


A Sword Forge from Yi Ti

by Fujin_of_Shadows_13



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: BAMF Jon Snow, F/M, Female Jon Snow, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow knows something, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, R plus L equals J, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-16 00:05:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12331539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fujin_of_Shadows_13/pseuds/Fujin_of_Shadows_13
Summary: Westerosi swordsmanship is all about hacking and hammering, overpowering the opponent with strong and powerful thrusts and slashes.Yitish swordsmanship is all about precision and swiftness, outmaneuvering the opponent until an opening presented itself and a killing strike can be delivered.Aegon would always prefer a Westerosi sword and a Westerosi style. Westerosi style, the dance of knights is the prefer sword style of Aegon VI Targaryen.Visenya Targaryen, AKA as Lyarra Snow, preferred a Yitish Sword and a Yitish style. The Yitish style the dance of assassins. There are no duels when a Yitish sword is drawn, only executions.





	1. Prologue

Aegon VI Targaryen watched his little sister train with her blade with undisguised admiration.

Her sister is a pretty girl, on the verge of becoming an immaculate woman.  
A woman who would stand beside him in his conquest to regain their birthright, fighting with him in every battle, and advising him in every decision.

His little sister was a gift send to him by the Gods. Compensation for the tragedies and shit that he had to endure in the first ten and four years of his life.

Of course, not everything is smooth sailing.

His foster father did not like his infatuation with his younger sister.

His newly discovered younger sister.

Jon Connington could barely looked at her, much less when he was spending time with her.

According to Septa Lemore, the presence of his little sister in the Shy Maiden was a kin to having a ghost on board, a nightmarish reminder of the woman that had cause the downfall of the Targaryen Dynasty.

 _‘Visenya is not Lyanna Stark.’_ He thought to himself fiercely. _‘She is a Dragon as much as she is a Wolf.’_

“I thought I taught you better, Aeg.” A woman’s voice echoed behind her, the familiarity of which made him smile.

He did not even bother to turn around, knowing whom was approaching and trusting the said woman with his life.

A beautiful woman of forty stood beside him, joining him in watching his little sister trained with her sword.

“You are too young to be undressing a girl with your eyes, Aeg.” Septa Lemore, or Lady Ashara Dayne chided the young prince.

“My Visenya is very beautiful. It is difficult to resist.” Aegon said without shame.

Aegon was not even attempting to hide the possessiveness that he felt towards his little sister.

Ashara could not help but chuckle bitterly at the young boy that she had viewed to be her own son.

“You sound like your father.” Ashara pointed out, causing Aegon to growl lightly.

“I am nothing like him.” Aegon insisted stubbornly.

Aegon may have his father’s eyes, thought a touch lighter, his nose, his chin, his cheekbones, and the like. He may be the mirror image of his father, aside from his complexion, but Aegon was determine to not be Rhaegar Targaryen reborn.

Aegon intended to win, unlike his father who lost

Aegon intended to rule, unlike his father who perished before he could sit on the Iron Throne.

And unlike his father, he intended to be faithful to the wife of his choosing.

Aegon hated his father. He resented him.

Even though his foster father only has kind words for his blood father, Aegon could not help himself but hate him.

Rhaegar Targaryen, in all of his suppose greatness, made grave mistakes that had cost their family much.

 _‘He could have taken Lyanna Stark as a second wife.’_ Aegon thought bitterly. _‘If he had done that, this entire mess would have been avoided. My mother and sister would still be alive, and sweet Visenya would have live her life with a loving family.’_  
Visenya would not have been treated as the bastard of Eddard Stark.

“Lyarra wields a sword well.” Aegon was snap out of his dark musing at Ashara’s vocal observation of his little sister. “If I have known that a sword like that existed, I may have picked up a sword during my childhood.” Ashara japed her eyes on the girl that her former flamed raised and consider his daughter.

Ashara could already imagine the rumors that were echoing within the walls of Winterfell.

Ned and Ashara did lay together, and she did bore the honorable Stark a child, but said child was never alive.

“ _ **Visenya**_ …” Aegon was insistent in calling his little sister with her Targaryen name. “…is a skill swordswoman, but she is not a practitioner of the Westerosi Sword. She is a Yitish Swordswoman.”

Westerosi swordsmanship is all about hacking and hammering, overpowering the opponent with strong and powerful thrusts and slashes.

Yitish swordsmanship is all about precision and swiftness, outmaneuvering the opponent until an opening presented itself and a killing strike can be delivered.

Even the swords that were used by the two discipline were different.

Westerosi swords are double edge wide and straights blades, with a cross guard. In comparison to Yitish swords that were a curved, slender, single-edged blade with a circular or squared guard and long grip to accommodate two hands.

Westerosi swords had longer and wider blades to provide maximum attack capabilities while Yitish swords have longer and more elaborated grips to allow better maneuverability of the sword.

Aegon would always prefer a Westerosi sword and a Westerosi style. Westerosi style, the dance of knights is the prefer sword style of Aegon VI Targaryen.

That does not mean he does not enjoy watching his sister wields her Yitish sword.

Quite the contrary.

Aegon had seen many who practices the Braavosi Water Dance.

All of them combine does not have the grace that her sister displays whenever she holds her swords.

They were not as swift as his sister.

They were not as deadly as his sister.

They were not as elegant or as pretty as his sister.

If there was one thing that Aegon was quite glad in regards to Yitish swordsmanship, it is that their forms were practice in a dance, instead of sparring.

Apparently, sparring with blades in Yitish culture is considered sacred, only to be done between master and student. Sparring between student and fellow student is considered disgraceful and disrespectful to the their sword, and is punishable by having their hands chop off. Hence, dances, or as his sister calls them, Katas, were invented to practice the different stances, forms, grips, and footwork of their sword style.

It was a joy for Aegon to watch his little sister perform those katas. To watch his Visenya dance with her blade was a joy that Aegon could not help but relish. With each move of her feet, with each swing of her sword, with each twist of her hips, his Visenya’s beauty shone like the sun.

“Aeg, you are going to get your sister pregnant with how intensively you look at her.” Ashara japed at her young charge and student.

“That is for the future.” Aegon stated nonchalantly.

Aegon watched Visenya sheathe her sword before turning her gaze towards him.

Aegon would admit that his heart skipped a bit when her silvery-grey eyes that were slightly kiss with the violet of the dragon looked at him with fondness.

Undisguised fondness that did not came from his blood or name.

From their blood or name.

Her sister made a teasing gestured towards him to come to her, before putting one of her delicate hands on the hilt of her sword.

He knew what his Visenya wanted.

He will oblige.

“I beg your pardon, but it seems that I have some brotherly duties that I must attend to.” Aegon would patiently wait the day in which is brotherly duties towards Visenya became more than that.

Unsheathing the practice sword on his hip, Aegon descended to the lower deck of the Shy Maiden.

“Try not to lose badly, again.” Ashara teased with a laugh.

Aegon flushed red at the reminder of how easily his little sister had beaten them in all of their spars.

In his defense, everyone in the Shy Maiden is inferior to Visenya in swordplay.

As Visenya always pointed out, the Yitish Sword is the dance of assassins. There are no duels when a Yitish sword is drawn, only executions.

“As the elder brother, I must cultivate the confidence of my little sister in all interest that she pursues.” Aegon said in his defense.

It was a weak defense, and it has no merits, both of them knew this, which made Ashara laugh even more.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, My Prince.”

Filtering out the laughter of the false Septa, Aegon descended to the lower deck of the Shy Maiden, a few steps away from his favorite sister.

His only surviving sister.

Visenya Targaryen.

Lyarra Snow.

Future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms if Aegon had his way.

“Dear brother.” Aegon loved how she speaks with him. “Aegon…” Aegon often times wonder how his name would sound from her sister’s lips in a moan. “… you are watching me again. It is quite embarrassing.”

Aegon gave his sister a smirk. “I was studying your swordplay.” It was not the only thing Aegon was studying. “I cannot keep losing to you. Jon might get an idea of putting you on the throne instead of me if I don’t start beating you in spars.”

Visenya laughed at her brother’s jape. Aegon loved watching her sister laugh, for it was rarer. Ashara had told him that his Visenya was much like their father, always brooding and guarded, solemn and quiet.

His Visenya’s smiles were rare, her laughter even rarer.

“I will try not to beat you up badly this morning.” Visenya’s eyes turned cold, but the fondness that she felt towards him was still ever so visible.

“I win; you sleep on my bed when the sun sets.” Aegon said, readying himself to spar with his sister, to clash blades with her.

Shaking her head fondly, Visenya removed the sheathe of her sword from the sash that was holding her trousers and robe together. Aegon had never understood the clothing of the Yitish and her sister’s preference of them.

So many colorful layers of silk and cotton, overlapping together for an elaborated clothing.

With one hand on the wooden sheath and another on the hilt of her sword, Visenya nodded at Aegon.

She was ready.

Aegon did not waste time and charge at his sister.

Visenya initiating the attack has always ended in a disaster for him in their spars.

Aegon swung his tourney sword to the side of his sister.

When it comes to strength, a Westerosi Sword has an advantage against a Yitish Sword.

But when it comes to fluid motions, a Yitish Sword is superior.

Using the sheath of her sword, Visenya blocked the blow from her brother, and using the momentum of the attack, she spun around her brother, drawing her sword in a fluid motion until the edge of her sword was resting on the neck of her brother.

“Dead.” Visenya teased before casually stepping back, once again sheathing her sword.

Yitish swords were curve and slender, capable of killing from the very motion in which the sword is drawn.

Aegon touched the side of his neck. If the sword his sister was wielding was sharpen, he would have been cut very badly.

A Yitish sword has the superior cutting power while the Westerosi Sword has the superior thrusting power.

“Frontal assaults does not work on me, dear brother.” Visenya reminded him while readying herself for their next round.

“I know.” Aegon said while holding his sword with both hands. Taking a deep breath, he started to circle around his sister, trying to find an opening. “I am just making sure that you aren’t too exhausted from your morning dance.”

Visenya rolled her eyes. “I am not.”

Aegon chuckled as he once again swipe his training sword at his sister.

Visenya dodge the attack as well as another swing from her brother. Partially drawing her sword, Visenya block the third strike with some effort before swiftly sheathing her back to its sheath, trapping the tourney sword between the circular guard of her blunted sword and its sheath.

Aegon forcefully removed his tourney sword causing him to overextend.

Visenya pounced immediately.

Drawing her sword, and in that fluid moment, Visenya struck her brother with on the throat with the butt of his sword.

It did not have enough force to do anything severe on Aegon, but it was enough to knock the air out of his lungs.

Aegon staggered backwards which allowed Visenya to grabbed his wrist.

One thing Aegon learned when sparring with his sister, the moment she can grab hold of a limb, the owner of said limb will end up on their back.

And like a self-fulfilling prophesy, Aegon found himself flat on his back, his violet eyes staring at the point of his sister blunted sword.

Losing to his sister in spars was always bit embarrassing for Aegon, he was the one who was supposed to protect her after all, but having her mounting him, with a triumphant smirk on her lips was a sight worth any embarrassment.

“I win.” Visenya said with an amuse look. “Again.”

“That you did.” There was no shame in losing to his sister, his sister that was a superior warrior than him.

“That is going to bruise.” Visenya pointed at the area in which she slammed the pummel of her sword to his neck.

“It will heal.” Aegon assured her.

Tilting her head, Visenya leaned downwards until her lips was touching the bruise on her brother’s neck.

Aegon’s breath was caught to his throat as he felt the lips of his sister on his throat, her still growing breasts press on his chest.

The sensation of her nimble body press to his was suck a wonderful feeling.

It was addicting.

When his sister rose to her feet, Aegon had to fight every urge that were screaming at him to pull her back into his arms.

It would be counterproductive on their blooming relationship to force his desires on his ten and three sister.

  
Still, the red cheeks of his sister after the deed was quite a sight to behold.

Visenya offered her hand to his brother, and Aegon accepted it, wondering how Visenya’s hands could be so soft to the touch, even after hour of rigorous training with her swords.

“Break your fast with me, dear brother.” Visenya requested demurely.

It was always amusing how such a warrior like Visenya could still act like a lady and woman outside of her practice in arms.

“It would be a pleasure.” Aegon answered with a smile of affection.

Returning the smile, Visenya offered a stiff bow to her brother, a form of courtesy that she learned in her stay in Yi Ti before going to the cabins to change her robes before her meal with her brother.

Aegon watched her leave, unashamed of his eyes tracing every curve of his sister.

“Normally…” Aegon had to fight his reflect too jumped in surprised at the sound of Ashara’s voice at his back. “… those who lose don’t enjoy meals with the victor.”

Blushingly, Aegon raised his head. “I am a King, and she is my Queen.” Aegon proclaimed, as if wanting the whole world to know where he and his sister stands. “I allow My Queen to best me in spars as a reminder for her of our equal standing with each other.”

Being raised as a Bastard did not do his sister’s confidence any good.

“Whatever brings comfort to you, My Prince.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Direwolf is the symbol of the Stark Family.

Lyarra Snow, or Visenya Targaryen, as if to spite those who had ever called her a Bastard in Winterfell, had two Direwolves standing guard over her.

Aegon hated seeing those Direwolves near her sister.

It was a reminder that his sister still sees herself more of a wolf, instead of a Dragon, and that just leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.  

Direwolves were impressive creatures, but Dragons are more magnificent creature.

His sister seeing herself as purely a wolf is an insult to her, and to their entire bloodline.

“I don’t trust her.” The gruff voice of his foster father almost made Aegon roll his eyes in exasperation.

Turning his attention away from his sister and her wolves, Aegon eyed his protector and mentor with a tired look.

“We’ve been over this.” There was clear exasperation in Aegon’s voice.

Jon Connington looked at Aegon gruffly, thought their was parental fondness in his eyes, before looking at the girl that was the spitting image of his friend’s second lover and wife.

Jon was looking at Lyarra with undisguised contempt.

Aegon was half tempted to punch that look off of his foster father’s face.

“She is a Stark. They are the dogs of the Usurpers.” Jon hated every family that was involve in Robert’s Rebellion, especially the Starks and the Baratheons. “And also, Yitish swordsmen and women are mostly assassins by trade. In terms of martial skills, Yitish Assassins would easily best a Faceless man.”

Before Jon was informed of Lyarra’s parentage, the old Knight was weary of her due to the sword that she was carrying.

Yitish swordsmen have a very fearsome reputation throughout Essos and the Free Cities.

“All the more reason for her to be by my side.” Aegon argued sharply. “She is family. I am not losing her.”

A Targaryen alone in the world is cruel and painful thing.

“Her mother…”

“Don’t use that argument with me, not again.” Aegon cut off his foster father’s words. It was reasoning that he had heard plenty of times since Lyarra step foot on the Shy Maiden. “My father fell in love with Lyanna Stark. My mother fell in love with Lyanna Stark. My father decided to take Lyanna Stark as his second wife at the behest and encouragement of my mother. If the Dornish culture and practice that Ashara has been teaching me is correct, and if all the stories that she has been telling me about my mother is true, I would even assume that my mother was present and was participating herself when my father was bedding Lyanna Stark.”

Before leaving Winterfell, and one of the main reasons why she left the North, Lyarra found documents and proof supporting her claim as a _trueborn_ daughter of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.

From the papers that Lyarra presented, what caught everyone’s attention were the correspondence between Rhaegar, Lyanna, and Elia.

Hundreds of letters, most of them between Princess Elia Martell and Lyanna Stark.

It was clear from those letters, written in the hand of the late Princess Elia, confirmed by both Ashara (who was amused through her amuse tears) and Jon (who was in disbelief) that it was the late Princess herself who was pushing her husband to take the She-Wolf as a second wife.

Elia Martell was very taken with Lyanna Stark, more so than her husband, if the letters between the two women is to believe.

From the litany of letters that Aegon read, it was clear to him that his mother was the one who courted the She-Wolf.

Rhaeger may have love Lyanna Stark more, enough to allow the realm to bleed, but it was Elia Martell who loved the Stark girl enough to accept great shame and dishonor with open arms.

_‘If Lyanna Stark is as beautiful as my Visenya, I can understand the attraction of both my parents.’_ Aegon thought ruefully before continuing to his point.

“Lyanna Stark did not cause the downfall of my family’s dynasty, of my father, and even if she was, her sins are not carried over to her daughter.” Aegon was taught Dornish culture by Ashara, and it was a culture that he had embraced wholeheartedly.

Dornish culture is as ingrained to Aegon’s blood as Northern Culture is ingrain into Lyarra’s.

Jon was in the verge of arguing some more when the men pause when they heard the sound of growling.

Looking down, they saw the two wolves on Lyarra’s side, rising to their feet, growls echoing loudly.

Lyarra also rose to her feet, her hand on her sword, her eyes were focus on the horizon.

Aegon followed the sight of his sister.

Aegon swore as he rushed towards the side of his sister, drawing his sword in the process.

There was a battered looking fishing vessel sailing towards the Shy Maiden.

Aegon had been sailing long enough to know that the fishing vessel would ram the Shy Maiden, and that pirates would be boarding the Shy Maiden after the collision.

Often times, pirates would ignore the Shy Maiden, with it looking like dirt and all, but there are few occasions in which pirates would attack their poleboat.

Aegon had repelled a dozen pirate attacks before.

He would repel this attack as well, knowing full well what those pirates would do to his sister if he failed.

There was the sound of wood crashing on wood, the Shy Maiden tilted slight and shook on impack.

Aegon stumbled to a knee due to the force of the collision.

The young, exiled prince watched as ten men boarded the Shy Maiden, axe, sword, and mace at hand.

The first to meet them was his sister and her Direwolves.

The white Direwolf, Winter as Lyarra called her, narrowed its black eyes and pounce of one of the bigger man. The Direwolf, who was the size of a pony, tackled the man to the ground before ripping out its throat with a strong bite.

The black Direwolf, Midnight is his name, replicated the actions of his mate. Midnight, being larger the Winter, tackled three men to the ground, killing one with a powerful bite.

Lyarra followed her wolves with haste and engage the pirates.

Lyarra withdrew three daggers from her robe, and with a flick of a wrist, threw it at the six pirates that her wolves did not neutralize.

Two daggers were dodge.

One dagger hit one pirate right on the eye.

The Pirate fell on his back, a scream of pain echoing loudly.

Drawing her sword, Lyarra cut the throat of the nearest pirate in one quick motion before kicking the knee of the other pirate that was about to strike her with an axe.

The pirate drop to a knee, and Lyarra was quick to slit his throat before he could rise again.

Lyarra then side stepped a thrust from another pirate, spinning around her attacker all the while swinging her sword.

The Pirate’s head fell to the ground with a thud.

Two pirates then run towards Lyarra, a shout in their lips, weapon raise.

With a single step, Lyarra grabbed the wrist of the first attacker and flipped him on his back while shoving her sword right to the chest of the second attacker.

The slender blade dug through the chest of the pirate with ease.

Twisting the single-edge blade, Lyarra ripped the sword out of the man’s chest before turning and shoving it right into the skull of the men beneath her.

The last pirate was about to stab Lyarra from behind as she pulled sword her sword out of the skull of the dead pirate, but it was not to be as Winter jumped over her mistress and ripped the entire head of the pirate off his shoulders.

Lyarra and her Direwolves disperse 10 armed men with relative ease and swiftness.

Aegon did not have time to fully appreciate his sister’s swordplay as another 15 men boarded the Shy Maiden.

Steeling himself, Aegon stood beside his sister, sword at the ready.

“Don’t die.” Lyarra whispered to Aegon while she pointed her sword at the charging pirates.

“You as well.” Aegon replied.

The Targaryen siblings engage in their first battle together.

**_(Scene Change)_ **

It took ten minutes but the pirate attack was repelled and the crew of the Shy Maiden were relatively unharmed.

They may have been outnumbered but the pirates were outmatched.

Between Aegon, Lyarra, Jon, and Duck, the Pirates all met a swift end.

Ashara led both Lyarra and Aegon into the Cabin of the Shy Maiden while Yandry and Duck scavenge the vessel of the pirates for anything valuable.

Ashara, at the orders of Jon, was supposed to guard and dress the wounds of Aegon, but the Dornish woman merely left the cabin and allowed Lyarra to treat the bruises of her brother.

Aegon was very thankful of the Dornishwoman.

“You were amazing.” Aegon complimented his sister while she was rubbing his wound with medicine.

During the attack, Lyarra was the one who slew most of the pirates, at least half of them.

“I was lucky that they did not have steel armor on their person.” Lyarra said, focus solely on treating her brother’s wounds. “Katanas are not meant to tear through plated armor.”

“I can teach you the longsword, if you want.” Aegon offered, wanting desperately to teach his sister some of his skills.

“Thank you for the offer, but I must decline. My Katana would do, and I would just have a Dadao crafted for me in Braavos.” Lyarra declined before looking at her brother. “You can teach me the spear though. My master never teach me how to use a spear, and the Yitish have a dozen kinds of spear”

Aegon smiled at that. He was inferior with a sword to his sister, but he had bested her a few times with a spear.

“I’ll gladly teach you.” Aegon told her, and Lyarra rewarded him with a smile.

“Thank you.” Lyarra told him before pushing a tunic towards him. “Also, thank you for acquiescing to my request. I know Connington did not like the idea of going to Bravoos due to its closeness to Westeros, and I appreciate your efforts of talking him into going there.”

Aegon sighed remembering that particular argument but the look of joy on Lyarra’s face made the headache rewarding.

“Think nothing of it, and you made a great point. The dowries and the bridal prices that my father gave to ours mother would be a boon for our future campaign.” That was not the primary reason why Aegon persistently argued with Jon to go to Braavos and visit the Iron Bank. “I also know that it would mean very much to you to see what your master left behind for you.”

A bittersweet smile graced Lyarra’s lips. “Yes, it would mean the world.” Lyarra whispered before taking a seat beside his brother. Lyarra then rested her head on his shoulder.

Aegon was pleased with his sister’s willingness to be close to him as well as the physical contact.

He wanted more, of course, but that would be for the future.

“Have I told you yet why I left the North?”

Aegon perked up at that inquiry, he was also delighted that his sister was opening up to him.

“Not in detail.” Aegon had troubled fighting down the eagerness that he was feeling at prospect of knowing his sister more intimately.

“I was seven when my siblings became aware of my status as a Bastard.” Lyarra began, voice dull yet bitter. “Arya, bless her soul, did not particularly care of my status. I was her favorite, and the two of us share the same Stark coloring. Bran, my sweet little brother, or cousin, did not know the full weight of what being a Bastard means, so he still treated me warmly. Dear Rickon was but a child, so he still gladly played with me, as I am one of the few who would willingly spend time with him.”

“Robb and Sansa, on the other hand, started to distance themselves from me. It was subtle at first, with Robb giving me confuse looks here and there, and Sansa being unsure with me, but as time progress, things between us became even more tense and uncomfortable.”

“Sansa was the first to start distancing herself from me. It was easy to see how uncomfortable she was around with me, and it was plain to see how much she was forcing herself to be cordial and polite with me.”

“Robb, on the other hand, just avoided, to put it simply. That hurt, because we were quite close, near inseparable, even when Lord Stark brought Theon Greyjoy to Winterfell.”

“It hurt very much when those two became distance with me. I could remember when Sansa and I were close. My dear sister enjoyed combing my hair, telling me it was curly and silky, and that it was easy to braid my hair. Sansa and I were used to spending hours on end just braiding our hairs, and we also spent many nights sleeping in the same bed after gossiping with each other for hours.”

“Having Robb suddenly distancing himself from me was what hurt the most, really. He and I were close. We were the best of friends. I use to follow him around, like a little duckling, and he always allowed me to play with him. He even shared with me his lessons. I would even say that he was the first boy that I ever fancied.”

Aegon decided there and then that he did not like Robb Stark.

“When Lady Catelyn notice that Robb and Sansa were distancing themselves from me, and are starting to be uncomfortable around me, she gave me this triumphant smirk before going to Lord Stark and insisting to have me sent away, and that opened a slew of problems for me.”

“Lady Stark was a shrewd woman. She is a good mother, but she is very shrewd. She publicly quarrel with Lord Stark, with me as the topic of the argument, with her persisting that I be fostered far from Winterfell, or him marrying me to one of his Bannermen. Of course, Lord Stark always deny her, but the damage was done. Sansa started blaming me for the frequent quarrel between her mother and father.”

“I would also bet that she was the one who added some peculiar materials in Robb’s lessons. Lessons that put Bastards into a bad light. Bastards usurping their trueborn siblings. Bastards seducing their siblings. Robb, ever the dutiful student, absorbed those lessons and apply them.”

“My dear sister who use to look up to me started to look at me with contempt, and my elder brother, who was also my best friend, started looking at me with guarded looks and distrusts. It hurt, a lot.”

“Things change though when I was Nine. I met my master at that age. Shiba Tatsuya was a good man, although cold and hard, he was kind to me. I met him by accident of course. I was spending time in the orphanage in Wintertown when I stumbled onto him. He looked at me with his cold blue eyes, and I thought I died. His eyes were terrifyingly cold. I was going to apologies for bumping into him, but he just walked pass me, telling me to seek him out when my days became dark. It was a peculiar meeting, but it was a life changing one.”

“And I did seek him out. My life in Winterfell was tense, with Lady Catelyn looking at me with disdain, Sansa looking at me with contempt, and Robb not wanting me to be in the same room as him, Winterfell became like a toxic to me. I seek my master out, as I do not want to burden Lord Stark or any of my siblings with me concerns. I would never have forgiven myself if I cause a strain in any of their relationship with each other.”

“I will not give Lady Catelyn the satisfaction of me being the reason why my siblings would dislike each other.”

“I was able to find my future Master rather quickly. He was obviously a foreigner, but he speaks Westerosi well, and we just talk, for hours. Well I talked and cried my problems to him, while he listened with his ever so emotionless expression. He was not very comforting, but he always told me that it was the height of foolishness for people to view me negatively due to mistakes done in the past of those with the same social standing as me had done. He also told me that it was stupid to blame the child for the sin of his parents. It was uplifting to hear that.”

“My master was magical. He was a seer and a sorcerer, you see. He told me, before my tenth nameday, he would point me to where I can find the answers to the questions that I wanted to be answer. He told me to look into the grave of my mother, my aunt at that time. He told me that all my questions will be answered at the feet of her grave. I did what I was instructed, and my questions were answered.”

“To make a long story short, I was hurt, distraught, and angered with the answered that I found. I was so close to run up to my father, my uncle, to rage, to yell at him on why he would lie on who my parents were. I didn’t of course. Instead, I run away, with nothing but clothes on my back, and a chest that contained the truth of my parentage, my mother’s wedding cloak, and letters between three peoples that have more love than sense.”

“My master took me in as an apprentice. Master Shiba spirited me to his home country, Yi Ti.”

“Shiba Tatsuya never acted like a father to me. He simply looked at me as the student that he can impart his knowledge and skill to. And he taught me well. For two years, he taught me how to kill. From dusk to dawn, he taught me how to wield the four swords of Yi Ti, how to shoot a bow and how to use ten different arrowheads, how to throw knives, daggers, and stars. He also taught me how to brew potions and poisons. He taught me alchemy and some magic, though not much of the latter, as he knew that I am not one to make the right sacrifices to fully become a sorcerer.”

“For two years, I learned from him nonstop, drinking in everything that he would offer. And then he died, and I was lost.  At his deathbed, he told me to go to Braavos, to visit the Iron Bank, as he had left me something to help me fulfill my destiny.”

Lyarra then looked at her brother intensely, much to Aegon embarrassment. “When my Master died, I was lost, I do not know what to do with myself. Six months after his death, I stayed in the cottage where he taught me everything I knew, never stepping forward. Then you came into my life, and gave it direction, even though I was very much willing to rot. You have my thanks for that.”

Aegon blushed at the gratitude that his sister was showing him. “You save my life, and we are family. I cannot abandon family.”

“You have every reason to abandon me though.” Lyarra pointed out, and Aegon rolled his eyes.

“My father did not leave my mother for your mother. They were in an understanding, and they were very much in love with each other. I am not blaming my father or my mother for falling in love with Lyanna Stark.” After discovering their blood ties towards each other, Aegon had told Lyarra quite strongly that he would not hate her due to her parentage; it was not the Dornish way. “I do hate our parents though for not thinking everything through.”

“My Master did say to me that Love makes idiots out of everyone.” Lyarra said with a soft chuckle. “Be at ease, dear brother. The Iron Throne will be yours by the edge of my sword.”

“The Iron Throne will be ours.” Aegon corrected his sister; very much determine to get his point across to his stubborn sibling.

What was his will also be hers.

“Thank you for sharing your history with me, Visenya.” Aegon said as an afterthought.

“Think nothing of it, and it is Lyarra.”

**_(Scene Change)_ **

“So this is the Iron Bank of Braavos?” Lyarra whispered with awe and wonder in her eyes and voice, which amuse Aegon. Since meeting her, Lyarra had always spoke with a controlled and even tone. Her voice was not emotionless, but it was in the verge of passiveness.

“It looks more like a fortress than an actual bank.” Lyarra commented, gazing around the high walls of the Bank, the intimidating structure that was the bank itself, and the hundreds of guards patrolling around the perimeter. “I don’t even think that I could infiltrate this place, and I can walk in and out of the Castle of Prince Izuri of Shen without even being notice.” Lyarra said with undisguised admiration while surveying the entire area.

With her training kicking in, Lyarra admitted to herself that the Iron Bank was a very formidable instruction.

“The Iron Bank is the richest institution in the known world. I guest all of this…” Aegon gestured to the high walls and the fortress before them. “… is for security purposes.”

“I don’t think any army would be capable of storming this place.” Lyarra added, still starstruck.

Aegon just shook his head before leaning toward Lyarra. “Sister, give me 50 good and skilled man, and 50 good swords, I will have this place.”

“I don’t think that’s the right language that you should be taking up around this place.” Ashara scolded her young charge. Ashara knew the history of the Iron Bank and knows how vindictive the Bank could be.

The Iron Bank will not take a challenge lying down, even if it was said in jest.

“I suggest…” Jon’s voice cut through the air, his eyes scanning every area around the bank. “… that we settle our business here in haste.” Jon state impatiently.

“If it means anything, Griff…” Lyarra cast the old Lord a look. “… the nearest Westerosi in Braavos is currently within a hundred yards of us, his cock buried deep inside of a whore.” Lyarra said with mock seriousness.

Connington glared at the girl.

“Also, no one will recognize Aeg without his pretty silver hair.” Lyarra spared a mourning look on her brother’s long hair. “Why must you dye your hair in such an ugly color? Your looks is greatly diminish with that blue substance.”

The sight of his sister acting like a girl, 5t amused Aegon to no end.

“Once we get back to the ship, I’ll allow you to remove the dye.” His sister’s hands running through his hair is quite a delightful idea.

“I’ll gladly do so.” Lyarra said before looking at the long stairs that would lead them to the entrance of the Iron Bank. “Shall we?”

Offering his arm, Aegon nodded. “Let us go.”

Accepting the offered arm, the two siblings made their way towards the formidable bank; Ashara and Jon following close by.

“They are very close.” Ashara whispered to Jon. “They have known each other for five months, yet they act as if they’ve known each for years now.”

Truth be told, Lyarra and Aegon are virtual strangers to each other. Lyarra has yet to fully open up to her brother, and the young girl has the tendency to seclude herself from everyone, preferring to mediate or train with her sword. Aegon, on the other hand, though clearly attracted to his little sister, was being careful in how he approached her.

Even with those restraints, the two were fast friends.

“Hopefully, their relationship remains just that.” Jon said with a gruff voice.

Ashara did not reply, not wanting to argue with the man in the current setting.

As they reach the marble and golden doors of the Iron Bank, three men, one wearing a brown, expensive robe and two guards, armed with a spear and a sword greeted them.

The man with the expensive robe had tan skin, dirty red hair, flat nose, and dark eyes. The man was tall, easily standing a head and a half taller than Jon does.

Lyarra and Aegon stop within a meter away from the three men.

The man between the guards had his eyes set on Lyarra, much to Aegon’s irritation.

The man spoke with a language that Aegon did not understood but was quite familiar with.

His sister replied with the same language.

Yitish language is very pleasant to the ear.

After the quick exchange between the banker and Lyarra, the Banker turned his attention to Aegon.

Aegon felt a bit disturb at the look that the man leveled him with, but he showed no reaction.

“My name is Alexander Ra.” The banker introduced himself courteously. “May I inquire of your name, and your business with the Iron Bank?”

Lyarra and Aegon shared a look for a full second, appearing to be communicating with their eyes. After another second pass, Lyarra returned her attention to the banker.

She was going to be the first to speak.

“I am Visenya…” Lyarra was still struggling to refer to herself with the name that his true parents gave her. “… Targaryen of House Targaryen and House Stark, daughter of the late Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lady Lyanna Stark. I am here with my elder brother, Head of House Targaryen and…” Lyarra did not hide the look of fondness that he threw her brother. “… my Meijin, Aegon Targaryen of House Targaryen and House Martell…”

A scream of outrage rip through the throat of Jon as he almost drew his sword at Lyarra.

Before Aegon could pacify his foster father, Lyarra struck first.

Taking a step back, Lyarra kick the sword back to its sheathe, before grabbing Jon by the beard and elbowing him on the solar plexus.

Jon gasped in pain as he fell to the ground, pain exploding throughout his body.

Lyarra then went down to her knees, and with a flicker of her wrist, a four-inch needle was suddenly propelled between her index finger and thumb.

Lyarra then prick Jon with the needle half a dozen times on the neck.

This act cause the old knight to suddenly stop moving on the ground.

Lyarra then stood up, eyes turned to the banker and to the guards, with the guards on the verge of pulling their weapons.

“My brother and I are here to discuss the dowry and the bridal price of our respective mother, as well as to inquire if House Targaryen has an account in the Iron Bank that we can access.” Lyarra said, voice as calm as humanly possible. “I am also here to discuss a gift that was entrusted to the Iron Bank by my late Sōshō, Master Shiba Tatsuya.” Lyarra added as an afterthought.

Aegon noticed that the Banker a minute reaction when Lyarra spoke the name of her old master.

Alexander then motion towards Jon, who was still paralyze. “Will he be a problem?”

“He will not.” Aegon assured the man, a pointed look aim towards his foster father.

Alexander nodded. “Please relinquish your weapons.” Alexander requested politely.

Lyarra was quick to grabbed the scabbard that held her katana before offering the sword to the guards.

The guard took it before Alexander spoke again.

“All of your weapons please.” Alexander stated coldly. “A Yitish assassin tends to carry more than one weapon.”

Lyarra sighed before reach into her robe to retrieve half a dozen throwing stars. Relinquishing the projectiles to the guards, she once again reached into her robe and retrieved four throwing daggers that she again gave to the guards.

Going down to a knee, Lyarra retrieved seven small darts that were secured on her left calf and eight needles that were strap on her right thigh.

Both Ashara and Aegon stared at her as she left all of her weapons to the Guards, a look of amusement, bewilderment, and fear written across their face.

Lyarra could only looked at the two with a shrugged.

**_(Scene Change)_ **

“What the hell was that?!” Jon raged as he glared spitefully at Lyarra, the old man was being restrained by both Aegon and Ashara.

After giving up their weapons to the Guards at the gate of the Iron Bank, and once Lyarra unparalyze Jon, the group of four was lead to a meeting room.

The room was unnecessarily large, with high ceilings, marble floors, and tall windows. There was a table at the far side of the room and before the table, three beautifully carved chairs with their backs to the other entrance. A plain, simply made, low rock bench sat on their side of the table.

The Iron Bank loves to show off.

_‘Just like Master told me.’_ Lyarra thought with a sigh before glancing at Jon, who was glaring murder at her.

“You were going to draw your sword within Iron Bank property.” Lyarra half-scolded, half-scoffed, her eyes narrowed. “That will get you killed.” Lyarra stated with certainty.

“You told that banker of Aegon’s identity! Do you know how dangerous that is, you stupid girl?!” Jon screamed at Lyarra.

“It is more dangerous to lie to the Iron Bank.” Lyarra answered back. “Also, the Iron Bank is infamous for the security, discretion, and the confidentiality of its patron’s personal information.”

“I thought you haven’t been here before?” Ashara inquired peacefully.

“I haven’t stepped foot on Braavos before, but I was taught by a very good assassin, and he had told me every institution that I should never cross, and how to do business with them if I am required to.” Lyarra explained herself, gazed fix on Ashara. “The Iron Bank is one of them.”

“In the Iron Bank, there are three important rules that we must adhere to. First, we should not threaten those working within the institution. Second, we do not lie to the bank. Lastly, we do not draw arms within the back premises. Break any of those three; we are going to lose our heads.” Lyarra leveled Jon with a sharp look. “At the very least, you would. I am very confident that I can spirit both Aegon and Ashara away from here, but we would still be offending the organization that holds most of the gold within the known world.”

“And that would be problematic for what we are planning.” Aegon inserted himself in the conversation. “Jon, I know the need for secrecy with regards to my identity, but we need gold when we retake the crown, and lying to the bank that is the primary or secondary financier of my kingdom’s economy would be counterproductive.”

“Aegon, no one can know that you are still alive, not yet.” Jon reminded his charge strongly.

“I would bet my maidenhead is already aware of Aegon’s and my existence.” Lyarra told him while standing in front of one of the benches. “My Master had told me that the Iron Bank knows everything about their clients and their families. That, for a price, they are called upon in a dispute over inheritance, as their records are impeccable and accurate to the last digit or letter.”

Lyarra then turned her attention to her brother. “Aegon, we should prepare ourselves right now. We will be meeting three bankers in a few seconds.”

As the last words were utter, the door across them slid open, and three bankers, wearing dark, expensive robes, and keys dangling on their neck entered. They took a sit on the marble and gold chairs without looking at those within the room.

As the three bankers settled on their respective chair, the one on the middle, a man in his forties, with auburn hair, hazel eyes, crooked nose, and thin lips nodded at all of them.

Lyarra respectfully bowed at the three while Aegon moved to stand beside her.

The auburn haired banker nodded his head at Lyarra before turning his attention to Aegon.

Aegon looked at the banker passively, a look that the banker returned.

“Good day, Prince Aegon, Princess Visenya, I do hope that our institution has treated both of you well.”

“The Iron Bank has treated us fairly, although I would like to apologies to what happened just outside your doors.” Lyarra then bowed her head low. “Jon Connington, **_our_** guardian, is very concern for our security and safety, and considering what happened in our homeland, our identities is quite a delicate subject.”

“I assure you, Princess, that your identity is secured within the walls of our bank. The same goes for you, Prince Aegon.” The ebony haired banker on the left said in assurance.

“Your identities and your business here within the bank for today, and in the future, would stay within these four walls.” The bald banker on the right stated with a quiet tone.

“We are very thankful for the bank’s discretion.” Lyarra said, her head still low, body still bend in a bow.

Aegon was very close in forcing his sister to stand upright. Princesses should now bow, especially his princess.

“All in the day’s work, and please raise your head, and take a seat.” The lead banker said, gesturing the two siblings to seat on the bench.

They did.

“Now, let us discuss business.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am just going to have fun writing this.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me try my hand on this series. First time writing for a series that I have minimal knowledge on.


End file.
